#judgmatical

[hansfallada]

jonathan in his first email: paprika yummy

ishmael in his first email: though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will.

[bluecatwriter]

So I started reading Moby Dick...

[The speech bubbles:

The Fates are my stage managers.

Call me Ishmael.

I really, really like whales.

Seriously, everyone likes water. What is even wrong with you if you don't like water

Do you find yourself wishing you could step into traffic or assault people? If so, try TAKING TO THE SEA!

Ah, how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!

I really like broiled fowl

I am so depressed right now

EVERYONE LIKES WATER.

Did you know that if you go to sea as a passenger they make you PAY FOR IT? But if you go as a sailor you GET paid! Money can be exchanged for goods and services! Anyway, Adam and Eve invented capitalism.

Yet somehow I never fancied broiling fowls— though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will.

When I go to sea, I got as a simpler sailor, right before the mast, plumb down into the forecastle, aloft there to the royal mast-head. True they rather order...

What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks?]

[mysticalspiders]

“And as for going as cook,—though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board—yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls;—though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will.”

The only way to start of an email substack is with a mention of a very good poultry dish. 

Where are all the recipes for period accurate broiled fowls? The broiled fowl memes? Rabbit holes about every detail of this dish? We all need to start obsessing about (and making) broiled fowls, judiciously buttered and judgmental salted and peppered just as thoroughly as a paprika hendl.

[ghostclothes]

“And as for going as cook, - though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board - yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls - though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will. It is out of the idolatrous dotings of the old Egyptians upon broiled ibis and roasted river horse, that you see the mummies of those creatures in their huge bake-houses the pyramids.”

Dying to know what Ishmael/Melville meant by “bake-houses” here. They’re not giant poultry stoves, did he think they’re made out of clay?

I hate fowls, I love them more than anyone else when cooked. Implies that fowls are another recurrent theme in human consciousness. Moving on.

[grumpyfaceurn]

And as for going as cook,—though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board—yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls;—though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will. It is out of the idolatrous dotings of the old Egyptians upon broiled ibis and roasted river horse, that you see the mummies of those creatures in their huge bake-houses the pyramids.

My favourite thing about 19th century lit is these just completely random asides

My other favourite thing is realising that I have no reading comprehension give seconds after I hit post. I thought he was talking about human mummies

[scarcelyodd]

"And as for going as cook,—though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board—yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls;—though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will."

Moby Dick, by Herman Melville

[unskilledpoint]

+1 Desk fan that emits dangerous quantities of ionizing radiation

Maaaaaaaan what even is UP with that Exigency guy. Or multiple guys. Whaaaaaaaatever.

[Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I begin to grow hazy about the eyes, and begin to be over conscious of my lungs, I do not mean to have it inferred that I ever go to sea as a passenger. For to go as a passenger you must needs have a purse, and a purse is but a rag unless you have something in it. Besides, passengers get sea-sick—grow quarrelsome—don’t sleep of nights—do not enjoy themselves much, as a general thing;—no, I never go as a passenger; nor, though I am something of a salt, do I ever go to sea as a Commodore, or a Captain, or a Cook. I abandon the glory and distinction of such offices to those who like them. For my part, I abominate all honorable respectable toils, trials, and tribulations of every kind whatsoever. It is quite as much as I can do to take care of myself, without taking care of ships, barques, brigs, schooners, and what not. And as for going as cook,—though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board—yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls;—though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will. It is out of the idolatrous dotings of the old Egyptians upon broiled ibis and roasted river horse, that you see the mummies of those creatures in their huge bake-houses the pyramids.]

What the fuck!!!!!!!!

[writer59january13]

Unidentified extraterrestrial(s) willingly abducted me

As a divergence

from the apocalyptical, dialectical,

geomorphological, judgmatical,

metaphorical, philosophical...,

I share an out of this

(webbed wide) world,

light hearted anecdote

ye may find far fetched.

Believe me you,

an unspecified number of years ago, yours truly availed himself

as an experimental subject,

and since then subsequently

no longer fears dark shadows

shimmering within outer limits

of the twilight zone.

Specific details elude me, thus only a general sketch can be provided

Upon falling into a deep slumber after taking a respite

from my daily constitutional within vicinity of Ardmore, Pennsylvania

countless decades ago,

the following subconscious

somnambulant scenario arose

allowing, enabling, and providing

temporary alleviation

from a harried styled

and swiftly tailored married state.

Out of a tendency to be impetuous,

and oblivious to danger,

I voluntarily let myself

get abducted by this gamesome

handsome, and venturesome green eyed

Geico looking alien ghoul.

Any resemblance between

the following piecemeal description

being kidnapped by an alien

(from another condemn nation

in the cosmos), and living persons then lamenting married life

purely coincidental.

Although pitch-black

that hot summer July night 20xx,

an ominous ghastly shape

lumbered near the skeletal

partially built addition

at Lower Merion High School.

This phantasmagorical amorphous,

diaphanous, illustrious... entity

hovered outside his/her

phosphorescent flying saucer.

I stood stock still as my warm breath

bestirred, dispersed, fractured thick fog (actually smoke from Canadian wildfires) creating, generating, loosing,

rousing and yawning miniature clouds

that formed a gauzy window.

Thru this opaque grounded soundcloud

ether movements detected.

Eight tentacles (similar

to Octopus teacher viewed

courtesy NetFlix)

shredded this faux misty shroud

and quickly, yet gently grabbed me.

I found myself on-board

a battle gray extra-terrestrial object.

Fate delivered me out of desperation

into the "hands" of what appeared

as the most surreal setting

created by ingenious

computer graphics technicians.

Nanny boo boo

uttered the creature

from black abyss.

Since what sounded

like outer space gibberish

as a second language

not an elective when I attended

Methacton High School,

(nor colleges for that matter),

an automatic reflex took over.

I offered a gap toothed

(i.e. Alfred E. Neuman trademark -

what me worry) wry smile foreigners (vaguely resembling

grateful dead foo fighters

didn't get MAD at me.

An immediate interest

arose from these outliers

at the ultra thin metallic post

sticking atop me noggin.

Robotic, galactic and electronic signals

broadcast and received

courtesy said antenna.

Nevertheless, a crazy idea occurred.

Maybe these foreigners

from another galaxy

could secure long overdue

permanent implanted teeth

(in place of these ill fitting dentures)

without charging an arm or leg.

Ha!

Non-verbal communication

resorted to as a necessary expedient

to establish comprehension

and self preservation!

Additionally, the notion

to avoid any action interpreted

as hostile best be applied

even at the expense

of being whisked away

(no matter mine very fantasy

far out and groovy whim)

countless light-years from

1148 Greentree Lane,

Narberth, Pennsylvania.

Psychiatric medications:

BUSPIRONE TAB 15MG,

CLOMIPRAMINE CAP 50MG,

CLONAZEPAM TAB 0.5MG,

FLUOXETINE CAP 40MG,

(GLYCOPYRROLATE, TAB 2MG,

PRAZOSIN HCL CAP 5MG,

PRAZOSIN HCL CAP 1MG,

RISPERIDONE TAB 1MG,

ROPINIROLE HCL 0.5MG

prescribed by Doctor David Lee Wrought)

most definitely eased anxiety

per dread locked terror

that loomed large

within my quite active imagination.

I willingly made clear

(using all manner of gesticulations)

to surrender myself,

which idea triggered

a flickering googly eyed excitement.

Wow!

This bizarre situation

could offer golden opportunity

to escape the tragedies

of terrestrial existence,

and perhaps get linkedin

with another weird

organic life form

ideally non human

or not otherwise specified.

Once this electric like surge

coursed thru each fiber,

I brazenly approached

the other-worldly specimens

guarding their shimmering craft,

which appeared to hover

just barely above the perimeter

slated to be another

state of the art wing of this campus.

I hemmed and hawed

with tentative steps

before nonchalantly

scaling the hydraulically propelled ladder.

At once, an immediate

whoosh took place.

After these myopic eyes

adjusted to the scene,

I observed an identical

earth like landscape and heard

what sounded

like the most melodious chimes.

Actually, that globe happened

to be dear third rock from the sun

as viewed from the nearest window.

Upon setting foot into the structure,

an automatic accelerator activated

before the spaceship

jettisoned and sped away

Mötley Crüe at warp speed.

Within my mind, I thought

what to do to pass the time???

Instantaneous sans any desire

promulgated that very wish.

Ah!

Perchance, these ethereal creatures

(large, medium and small)

conveyed messages telepathically?

I put this hypothesis

to a rudimentary

electric kool aid acid test.

Within my mind,

I silently uttered Matthew Scott Harris.

An instant reply came back - in my head.

Every one of these

wraith-like cosmic nomads

understood whims wirelessly,

albeit telepathically

thus believing yours truly

(me self) to breathe easy

said species reduced signals

to digital bits

and/or hallowed weaned bytes.

Upon waking up, I realized

the aforementioned a dream

to be continued…

in another millennium or so.

[infamousmonkey-cat]

Developing a new game, “Who said it: Ishmael or Bertie Wooster”. First item:

“It is quite as much as I can do to take care of myself, without taking care of ships, barques, brigs, schooners, and what not. And as for going as cook,—though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board—yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls;—though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will.”

[graywyvern]

( via / via )

DJ Zvlyïrnköôfz.

I imagine my Twitter-archive download on the way, like an avalanche of confetti, moving silently through the night.

Rolling abstract landscape.

they build the bad effigy     again, a yard full of tourist-traply trinkets

& parking becomes nightmare     to match the others

"In the theory of the memory of water, what is greatly diluted, so diluted so as to have all but disappeared, is most potent in its effects."

"Howsomever, that don't argufy in reverence of his being in a hurry; and a man may be sometimes a little too judgmatical in his conjectures." --Peregrine Pickle

Colorful Frog.

[kidsstorybook-blog]

Understanding by Online Book Seller Story Books Via Flickr: Teaching your kids the value of understanding will help them absorb important social skills as well as build their own system of values right from the beginning. The cute, fun illustrated animal characters in this book teach children how to appreciate other people’s thoughts and feelings, to understand diverse situations from the viewpoints of other people with tolerance and sympathy. This book is a part of “What Makes My World”, a series aimed at helping kids learn meaningful values such as “Understanding”, “Respect” and more build character lay an important foundation for life. The bright, colourful illustrations paired with simple, lucid text come with a moral lesson in each book, making this character education series perfect for young children in classroom or home. Visit now- www.amazon.in/dp/9386430908

[arefriendsdetectives2]

And so I'm back from outer space To shake the moondust from my hair And reassume my rhyming place With feet on ground and arse in chair. Though thirty times I met the sun Since first I took sabbatical I didn't get a whole lot done (Please don't be too judgmatical!) With excess leisure on my hands I'm prone to be distractable; As time increases sloth expands. The problem's quite intractable.

[suspected-spinozist]

By reason of these things, then, the whaling voyage was welcome; the great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, midmost of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air. 

what I’m trying to say here is, a) Herman Melville is the greatest prose stylist in the English language and,

b) he gets me, he gets me, I am in my inmost soul a New England schoolmaster who takes off on a whaling voyage during my semi-regular depressive episodes, I abominate all honorable respectable toils, trials, and tribulations of every kind whatsoever, but

c) Ishmael is a fundamentally ridiculous person. Like in the world of the novel he is a fundamentally ridiculous person, nobody else talks like this, it’s just him yapping about great flood-gates of the wonder world and judgmatically broiled fowls. At some point an Anglo-Saxon bard had a drunken one-night stand with a dour Presbyterian minister and this was the result. 

d) I was warned this book would be gay but the Ishmael/Queequeg relationship escalated from 0 to “we are now legally married by the customs of his people” in four chapters/approximately a day and a half 

[jackospice]

“I never fancied broiling fowls; - though once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I will.” Ishmael in 'Moby Dick' by Herman Mellville (1851

[smuttyassholes]

Can I get a Bts reaction: watching porn videos together 🌚🌚🌚

Jimin : *As you two watch the video quietly he’d start getting aroused looking intensively at you*

~You ask him what’s he looking at you for~

“Nothing..” “You’re just so beautiful.”

Yoongi : *Begins complaining not finding it interesting just wants to leave to work on his music*

“Why are we watching this?” “Why did you want me to watch this with you?” “I could be in the studio.”

Jin : *Makes everything funnier*

“He’s going to kill her!” “Ah really..” “Look she can’t even breathe!”

Jungkook : *Laughs for unknown reasons from time to time*

“This is so dramatic.” “Why is she screaming so much?” “I’m glad you don’t scream like that..”

Taehyung : *Finds it awkward watching it with you, looking at the screen with a judgmatical face like he has never seen porn in his life*

Namjoon : Visibly interested. Straight focused on the screen.

~Sees a good position that the girl in the video enjoys~

 “I want to try that baby,” “can we try that?”  “We should try it today actually.”

J-Hope : *Laughs loudly pretty much the whole time*

“Change the video,” “change the video.” “What is this??”

[writer59january13]

À propos preponderant passion penning poems...

posited puzzling apt aperçu...

While pondering particular theme to address amidst tangled wide, whirled

webbed mental skein

today November third two thousand twenty two,

unexpected Möbius strip tease conundrum unforeseen, yet as avid aspiring wordsmith only now I became keen,

which unflagging vexillological,

theoretical, rhetorical, philosophical...

narratological, linguistical, judgmatical

historical, fantastical, didactical, and bibliographical predicament

may not suddenly find me flush with green i.e. profuse legal tender, but merely thought provoking

puzzlement addresses following quandary stuck within gray matter of pate

impossible mission to differentiate

jagged fine line between passion and obsession case in point strong affinity to write of late,

cuz yours truly susceptible toward compulsion that doth not abate,

and mind boggling to wed healthy love of language analogous as mate

nsync with psychological trait,

viz excessive compulsion

diagnosed years gone by courtesy professional mental health specialists, did annotate, and I admit behavior impossible to satiate,

thus generating aforementioned query

how does one (me) segregate

productive interest versus excessive, née fanatical all consuming - affinity towards English language

I loopily, quirkily verily narrate oft times burning midnight oil

(albeit figuratively alluded to wicked mister Arson Wells) witness as logophile doth painstakingly toil

bajillion cerebral threads to uncoil,

whereby utilizing figurative tweezers uprooting, untangling rhyme I embroil

(even using Scooby Doo conditioner)

metaphorically beneath mine royal

hirsute (Scottish) matted topsoil

ultimately bringing in top gun

uncannily resembling gargoyle

shape shifting between comical characters such as Popeye and Beetle Bailey

at lightspeed as if greased with Olive Oyl

so watch out Bluto, get ready for turmoil!